Who Am I
by Andi-Lynne
Summary: Buffy Summers seems like an average social butterfly with a seemingly perfect body and life, according to everyone except her. Will someone pull her out of herself before she drowns? Completely AU. Warning: Deals wrape
1. Chapter 1

Who Am I  
  
By Andi  
  
Rating: PG-13 to R; I'm not sure where this one's going, but for now it's PG-13.  
  
Summary: Buffy Summers seems like an average social butterfly with a seemingly perfect body and life, according to everyone except her. Will someone pull her out of herself before she drowns?  
  
Disclaimer: None of this is mine. I don't have money, so please don't sue me. (LOL)  
  
A/N: Buffy's POV. Please review, without it my muse evaporates. I hope you like!  
  
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Mrs. Reeds just handed out our new essay topic. It's wrong. Degrading, even.  
  
Who am I? Is this some sick joke?  
  
What gives her the right to ask that question? I bet she's expecting some lame-ass answer such as 'I'm a girl who wants to grow up and have a wonderful family with a beautiful caring husband.' That's what everyone else would expect.  
  
Well, no more. If she has the nerve to ask this question, she better be prepared for an answer that doesn't include flowers and bunnies and white paper doilies.  
  
Buffy Summers is no longer going to be everyone's dumb blonde. I mean it. I'm totally going against the grain; washing my hands of the filth that is Sunnydale High's popularity queen.  
  
I'm gonna write like there's no barrier to my soul, and with that she'll see just how far she stepped over the line.  
  
.....................................................  
  
Who Am I? By Buffy Summers  
  
Who am I?  
  
I am a girl whose appearance is a lie. I am a girl who feels like she's ruined her existence. I've put up a front of being a cheery, dumb, don't- give-a-damn about world issues 'cuz I've got myself a pretty new nail- polish color ditz. I've wasted myself trying to be what everyone else wants me to be, and now no one takes me seriously. It's my fault.  
  
I let everyone do this to me. I asked them to! So now I've got to lie in the grave I dug for myself. And don't even tell me that that's not the way the expression goes, 'cuz that's the thing I don't give a damn about.  
  
I am a girl who is loved for my appearance, because no one knows my soul enough to love it. I'm a girl who needs someone, but there's no one there. I need to be left alone.  
  
My mom and dad always ask me why I close the door to my room. Just because I tell them I don't know doesn't mean I don't. I do. Opening that door scares me. In my room, I don't have to pretend. There's no one there to demand that I put up my helpless façade. Outside that door, and I have to go back to being one of those 'shiny, happy people' who are told they're too young to understand things, but understand all too well.  
  
Who am I? I am me. I just hope that someday, someone else will realize that too.  
  
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It's been two days since I turned in that essay, and I am suffering from major wiggings. I shouldn't have given that to my English teacher! She'll never understand, she'll just send me to a psychiatrist! And that'll make me talk, talk about things that I've buried deep within me for so long. Things that no person should have to go through. Things that I've been through. And that's never good.  
  
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A/N: Please tell me if I should continue or not! I need peace of mind. Also, spuffy goodness will come, but slowly. Bear with me, in my other stories it goes way too fast. Lots of love,  
  
Andi 


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2  
  
A/N: The rating changes to R here, because of rape flashbacks. Buffy's POV. Memories in '-'.  
  
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"Buffy, can I speak to you for a moment?"  
  
Oh no. Not now. Why couldn't she have just skimmed the essay, like the rest of my teachers do on essays? It's not fair. She's going to do something. . .  
  
"I believe that you have a lot of unexpressed rage in you, and that maybe speaking to someone outside of your daily life would help you with that. I assure you that everything you would say to her would be strictly confidential, and it might help you to let go of some of that anger."  
  
I simply nod my head and walk towards my seat to wait until the bell rings, which it does 5 minutes later. I'm still zoning while Mrs. Reeds drones on about plot chains, how they must flow, all moving up to a climax and back down again. . .  
  
'"Shut up, Buff, it'll only hurt for a moment."  
  
"No, god, please no!"  
  
Suddenly I'm back up against that ally wall outside the Bronze, my hands up above my head, other hands are reaching down where they have no right to go. . .  
  
"What's the matter, Buffy, you scared?"  
  
"Get off me!"  
  
I realize that no one can hear me. The Bronze is too noisy for anyone to notice a couple of screams.  
  
"That's it, lover, fight it. It only makes it more fun."  
  
The creep's getting off on this!  
  
"Please, put me down, I, I, ahhh!"  
  
I scream as he slams into me.'  
  
"NO!"  
  
Heads rise up around the classroom as my shriek resonates throughout the room, but all I can feel is my heart pounding in my chest. I have to get out of there, I have to get out. . .  
  
I'm running out the classroom doors before Cordelia or anyone else can stop me.  
  
Tears are blinding my eyesight as I run through the halls, not knowing which way I'm going, not really caring.  
  
I slam into someone, and I don't even raise my head up as I whimper and step back into the wall before I slide to the ground, sobbing.  
  
"Are you OK, love?"  
  
I look up into the face of a blonde haired man with a worried look in his eyes.  
  
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, let me go. . ." I'm whimpering, babbling, crying, my head's screaming at me the memories of which I took so long to forget.  
  
I should be able to forget, right? It's been almost two years; I have the emotional stability of someone older than just my 17 years-or at least I did.  
  
I realize that the man's still standing there, his eyes growing larger with each passing second.  
  
He kneels down in front of me and takes my hands.  
  
"Come on, love, lets get you to the bathroom. Clean you up some, huh?"  
  
I silently agree while he leads me towards the restroom.  
  
"Now I'm going to wait right out here while you go in there and get washed up, alright? No more tears now, ducks."  
  
I nod my understanding despite my tearstained face and walk towards the sink.  
  
I look up in the mirror and see a hollow shell of what I once was. It rarely gets this bad-the days when I'm so depressed I don't even bother to shower or put on makeup.  
  
I slowly wash away the tears that betray my usually grinning self.  
  
Who am I?  
  
The question that brought on this whole new set of anxieties bears down on me as I stare at the face in the mirror.  
  
It's not fair. It's just not fair.  
  
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A/N: OK, please review; I'm sort of new at writing and that was my first attempt at something that could really be considered an 'R' rated piece, however weak. Also, if you're reading 'Darker,' I want you to know that that's going to be taking a backseat for a while. I'm being forced to get all 'A's' this quarter, on the threat that "A summer can go by very slowly without a TV, computer, or headphones. . ." 'Specially since I got two 'C's' on my last report card. A bientôt! 


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3  
  
A/N: I seemed to have lost a lot of readers in that last chapter, but honestly, I didn't mean to surprise you all. It just came out. I've done fluff, drama, and now this will be my angsty-romance type. Thanks to Spuffy Girl, who did review.  
  
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Maybe if I stay in here for long enough he'll just leave.  
  
"You still in there, pet?"  
  
Or maybe not.  
  
"Just a minute." I say.  
  
I take one last look at myself in the mirror and cringe. Oh well, nothing I can do about that now.  
  
I walk out of the bathroom and he looks at me with a concerned face.  
  
"You OK, umm. . . I don't know your name."  
  
"Call me Liz."  
  
No point in telling him my real name yet, he might go and blab that he ran into a freaky looking girl having an emotional breakdown on me.  
  
"OK then."  
  
He walks with me out into the courtyard and we sit down on a bench.  
  
"I'm William."  
  
I nod and try to avoid his penetrating gaze.  
  
"Wanna tell me what all the tears were about earlier?"  
  
I shake my head 'no.'  
  
"OK," he says.  
  
Over the loud speaker a voice booms out at me.  
  
"Will Buffy Summers please report to the guidance office."  
  
I look at him and attempt to smile.  
  
"Someone's calling for my better half. I need to go. I'll see you soon?"  
  
He smiles and nods.  
  
"Thank you." I say quietly.  
  
"Pleasure."  
  
.....................................................  
  
"Hello, Buffy, my name is Willow Rosenburge, but please call me Willow. It seems you're in here because you're teacher thinks that you have a lot of repressed rage in you."  
  
I look up at the young woman behind the desk in the guidance office.  
  
"Aren't you a little young to work here?"  
  
She smiles. I like her smile.  
  
"I'm 22. I'm doing this as a part time job to get through college. I'm trying to earn a masters' degree."  
  
"Oh."  
  
The red-headed psycho-analyst looks me over with a slight frown on her face.  
  
"It looks to me like you've been through hell today." She says.  
  
I sit down in the chair and my vision starts to blur.  
  
"I-I don't know where to start. I mean, this isn't just PMS or a crush gone wrong, 'cuz believe me when I say I could have any guy in this school. This is something I've been holding on to for a long time. . ."  
  
I trail off and put my hand to my forehead.  
  
"I understand. . ."  
  
"No, you really don't. I don't even understand, how could you? Maybe-maybe I've just told myself so many times that I'll be OK, that I actually started to believe it for a while. Emphasis on the 'For a while.' Sometimes, all the walls just shatter around you, ya know? And now, I just need to tell someone, anyone, 'cuz I've kept it to myself for so long. . ."  
  
Somewhere in that speech the tears that I had been holding back began to fall.  
  
When I look up the pixie-like woman in front of me is staring at me with comforting eyes, which start me back up again.  
  
"Two years ago I was raped."  
  
That's it. I'm breaking down into the millions of tiny pieces that have come loose ever since I was cracked two years ago. I'm finally going to cry my heart out, and not worry about what's going to happen next.  
  
The fire-haired lady, whose true name shall not be spoken due to the fact that if it was, I would probably just go catatonic with all the truth and shit that's been buried down on me for so long, comes around the desk and puts her arms around me.  
  
"Too real, too real, too real. . ." I sob as I stumble out of her arms and back into a corner of the room. I curl myself up into a little ball, as if I'm shielding myself from the rest of the world.  
  
"I can't take it anymore."  
  
This is when I start babbling. And let me say, I never EVER babble.  
  
"Pixie lady, use magic, make it go away, oh God, oh God, I-I"  
  
My voice hitches as I break into sobs again.  
  
"Do you want me to call your mom?"  
  
"NO!" I look up, frightened.  
  
"I just- I just can't go back there right now. I-I need to get away from all of them. It's just too real."  
  
I wipe away my tears.  
  
"I'm sorry. . . I've never done that before. . . I'll get out of your way, you probably have other people you need to see."  
  
She looks at me with a face of sheer determination.  
  
"No. I'm not letting you out of this room until you are fully comfortable going back into the outside world. Can you honestly say that you can do that right now?"  
  
"No." I reply meekly.  
  
She smiles. I like her, she's nice. And she understands me. . . At least from the younger person point of view.  
  
My thought train is interrupted as there's a knock on the door, which promptly opens.  
  
"Sorry to disturb you, but there's a phone call waiting for- Liz?"  
  
When the door opened, I had curled up again into my little ball in the corner, but now I see that it is William at the door, and I unfurl just a bit.  
  
He rushes over to me and takes me into his arms and rocks me. I should feel angry, this is someone I barely know, but somehow it feels right.  
  
"Buffy, I'm going to go get the phone. William, you try anything, and I will have you kicked out of this school immediately, OK?"  
  
William nods and she walks out the door, quietly shutting it behind her.  
  
"How do you know Pixie Lady?" I ask, not realizing the childishness of the sentence structure.  
  
He doesn't seem to care, he just smiles and says, "When I first enrolled here, I applied to help in the guidance office almost immediately. I like to help people, and I want to be just like Red out there when I get out into this world. So why are you here, Ducks?"  
  
"I have some. . . Major issues I need to work out. Big, painful, scary issues that I've kept hidden until today. Hence the hysterics when I bumped into you earlier. . . Sorry about that. . ."  
  
"S'alright, Love."  
  
I put my head under his chin and he rocks me back and forth until my pain seems a million miles away.  
  
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A/N: OK, there will be a happy ending (Not for a long time. . . I'm still fully into this plot-line, and I want to keep working on it for a while.), but for now, know that rape is a serious issue, and it needs a lot of time sometimes to deal with it. Stick with me, though, and please review! It's like coal to my fire. 


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4  
  
A/N: Thankyou for all of the reviews. I'll try and work the whole "Plot line moves just slow enough for it to be realistic, yet not to slow" deal. Lots of love,  
  
Andi  
  
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Since when do I have a cat?  
  
I open my eyes a little bit and remember that I fell asleep in the guidance office. In William's arms.  
  
That still doesn't explain the purring- Oh. Oh! How sweet! William's purring! He must have fallen asleep to.   
  
No wonder, I mean, what else is there to do in a guidance counselors office?  
  
Oh. Damn. I just remembered why I'm in here.  
  
Double damn.  
  
I shift slightly and put my hand to his face, slowly tracing the valleys and lines. He has such defined cheek-bones.  
  
I sigh and close my eyes again, still mapping out his face with my fingers.  
  
"Having fun, pet?"  
  
I open my eyes to see William smirking, though his eyes are still closed.  
  
"Mmm. . ." I snuggle back into him and close my eyes again.   
  
It's strange how you can feel completely safe and loved with someone you barely know, yet a basket case with one of your oldest friends.  
  
Maybe life's just strange.  
  
Hell, who am I kidding? Life's one of the weirdest things in the entire universe!  
  
"How did we get away with sleeping in the guidance office during school hours?" I ask.  
  
He looks down at me. "Don't know, love. In any case, you seemed like you needed it."  
  
I smile and nod.  
  
Suddenly, the door creaks open and a dark-blonde haired girl pops in.  
  
"Oh, umm, you're awake. I guess I should tell Willow, she'll want to see you. . ."  
  
She walks back out of the room and I can hear her talking to the red-head.   
  
"I feel better now," I say to William, "I guess talking helped a little bit. . ."  
  
I trail off as I realize I still haven't told him what I was in here for. And he hasn't pressed.  
  
He seems to realize what I'm thinking about.  
  
"Don't worry about it, Liz. You can tell me when you're ready."  
  
I smile as Willow walks back into the room.  
  
"Well, are you feeling a little better?"  
  
I give her a sad smile and nod. "A little."  
  
"I'm glad. Well, I'm not sure how you want to do this, but you woke up just in time to go to lunch. If you don't want to go back out there right now I'll understand, I can write both of you a pass to stay here for the rest of the day, I'll just have to get the work you would be doing in class from your teachers. I don't have any other appointments so far today, so. . . Just for today, of course. You can't hide from this forever."  
  
I smile and thank her, saying that we would go to the cafeteria.  
  
"Good. I'll write you a pass. Tara? Sweetie? Can you get me two hall passes?"  
  
William and I exchange confused glances. Sweetie?  
  
Willow picks up on the look and gives us a sheepish look.  
  
"Umm. . . Did I mention I'm a lesbian?"  
  
William and I both shake our heads no with wide eyes.  
  
..........................................................................................................................................  
  
I walk towards my lunch table, William trailing along beside me.   
  
"Hey, Cordy, this is William. I met him earlier today."  
  
Cordy looks up at him. Her face justs screams, 'Hello, salty goodness!'  
  
I don't like that.  
  
I sit down and beckon for William to do the same.  
  
"Hey, ducks." He says to Cordy.  
  
She looks up at him with a flirty smile. "Hello. And why haven't I seen you around here before?"  
  
He smiles back. "I've been with Li-Buffy all day."  
  
Oooh, score one for the hot guy.   
  
"That's our Buffy, alright. Never one to share."  
  
She turns to me and says, "Buffy, do you mind if I speak to you in the restroom a moment?"  
  
I nod and follow.  
  
When we get there, Cordy turns to me with an inquisitive look on her face.  
  
"Alright, spill. First, you run out of Language Arts class sobbing, and then you come back with a major babe! What have you been doing all day?"  
  
I smile. "William's been really nice to me today. I- He's just a really great person."  
  
I start to blush, which, unfortunatly, Cordy picks up on.  
  
"Ohhh, so you like him." She says.  
  
"Yah, like I said, he's a really nice person."  
  
"No, I mean, you like him in the 'I swear if that guy isn't inside of me within 5 minutes I'm going to scream' way."  
  
If possible, my blush deepens.  
  
"Don't worry, Buff, he's all yours. I've got my own boy toy to play with."  
  
With that, she walks back into the cafeteria.  
  
I look in the mirror again. I seem to do that a lot these days. And it never comes without bad consequences.  
  
I look, if possible, worse than I did earlier, courtesy of falling asleep in the guidance office and blushing my brain out. This reminds me, yet again, of why I was in the guidance office in the first place. It seems that whenever I get really happy, I always remember that night.   
  
. . .  
  
"You were great. Really. I thought you were a pro."  
  
"Oh, god no. What have you done?"  
  
. . .  
  
I'm falling, spiralling out of control, I just can't stop, I-  
  
. . .   
"You sick, sadistic bast-"  
  
* Slap *  
  
"I don't appreciate the name calling, lover."  
  
. . .  
  
Tainted, used, dirty, impure, slut. . .  
  
* Shatter *  
  
Blood seeps from my torn knuckles, the glass lies broken on the floor, but I can't seem to register it all. The pain drives me to a place where I wasn't-   
  
It's calm here. . .  
  
I slowly melt like a puddle to the floor and wrap up inside myself again, rocking back and forth, back and forth. . .  
  
I can vaguely here a male british voice, someone shouting to get the nurse, an arm wrapped around me, calling to me. . .  
  
But I don't want to go back.  
  
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A/N: Hmm. . . What shall happen? Review and find out. But do remember what I said: I am a firm believer in happy endings. SWAK,  
  
Andi 


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5  
  
A/N: OMG, you guys are the sweetest people in the world! Thank you for all of the awesome reviews. This takes place after school on the same day. Buffy has stopped zoning, but she won't let go of William. Just so everyone knows, flashbacks are inbetween the '. . . . .' and songs are inbetween the '*****'  
  
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"What exactly is wrong with her?"  
  
My mom won't get anything out of Willow. She's nice. She won't tattle.  
  
"I suggest you ask your daughter, and if she doesn't want to tell you, then wait for her to feel more comfortable."   
  
Ha. I knew I could trust her.  
  
Just like I trust William. It's like. . . whenever I need someone to just be there for me, he's there. Just like he's here now.  
  
He doesn't ask questions, doesn't press for answeres, doesn't make me try and pretend to be something I'm not.  
  
Truthfully, I don't think I could be that person everyone expects me to be right now even if I tried.  
  
My mom and Willow talk for a little longer, and then my mom says it's time to go. She looks at me curled up against William and offers to call his parents if he's willing to stay with me a while.  
  
"Sure, I'd love to stay with her. But really, my dad works in the library, so I can just go ask him. . ."  
  
He starts to get up, but I whimper in protest. I don't want him to go. I need him.  
  
"How about you stay here with Buffy, and I'll go ask your father. What is his name?"  
  
"Rupert Giles."  
  
She nods her head and walks towards the library.  
  
Since she's gone, Willow tries to speak to me.  
  
"Buffy, honey, I want you to start going to a group therapy session. I think that it may help for you to see that you aren't the only one going through this, and there are other people who can help you. They know what you're feeling. . . the self-loathing, the hatred, they know this because they're going through this themselves. You don't have to isolate yourself in this."  
  
If she says that this will help, who am I to disagree? She's been wonderful in this short time I've known her, and I think she'll know what I have to do to stop feeling so horrible.  
  
I nod my head.  
  
"Also, Buffy, I think that you should tell your mom."  
  
My eyes grow wide at this statement and I shake my head 'no.'  
  
Now William turns me around to face him.  
  
"Lizzie, pet, wouldn't you like to see the man who did this to you brought to justice?"  
  
If possible, my eyes grow even wider.  
  
"Oh, I'm sorry, I just sort of figured it out. The 'No Touching' rule, the broken mirror. . ."  
  
He kisses the top of my head.   
  
"I think she's right, ducks."  
  
I sigh heavily. How will telling my mom help anything? She doesn't understand, she'll want to know why I've kept it hidden for so long, she'll. . . She's back.  
  
"Mr. Giles says it's OK if you come with us. That is, if you still want to-"  
  
"I do."  
  
The drive back home is silent. My mom keeps looking at me through the rear-view mirror.  
  
I don't like it. I don't need a reminder that I'm so far gone I could self-distruct any second.   
  
I start picking at the bandages on my hand. My vision travels downwards towards the scar I have about 3 inches above my wrist. Oh god, not again. . .  
  
. . . . .  
  
"Little girl, you need to learn some manners."  
  
Big, long knife, where'd he get that? Ow, ow, ow, ow,   
  
"OW!!!"  
  
"Serves you right, you worthless piece of-"  
  
Block your ears, don't let the words in, try and get away. . .  
  
. . . . .  
  
I'm picking at the bandage with fervor now. It needs to come off, wish I could take off my skin, like it's all a costume, get it off, get it off, get it off. . .  
  
I'm whimpering, on the verge of hysterics, I-  
  
"Please, let me go. . ."  
  
"Please, oh god, please, please, please, please,"  
  
I'm thrashing in the backseat of the car- or maybe I'm still in the allyway, still being cut and bruised and torn and defiled. . .  
  
"OH, GOD!"  
  
The car swerves. Did I say that outloud? I can't tell what's reality and what's not anymore.  
  
"Lizzie, baby, we're going home, it's alright,"  
  
My exterior facade slowly calms down, but inside is still turmoil. He's making it better, but not enough. . .  
  
My finger nails dig into my skin, and blood starts to seep out from the tiny crescents, until my hand is whipped away. Please, no, I need the pain, I-  
  
I start sobbing again.  
  
The car stops, and I see my mother trying to reach for me, but William waves her off. He takes me in his arms and rocks me back and forth. His hand rubs my back, and slowly my tears stop.  
  
He leads me up to my room, which my mom pointed out to him was on the second floor, right in to the left of the stairs.  
  
He lays me on my bed, and I immediately grab for him again  
  
He eludes me, closing the door behind us and turning on the cd-player.   
  
*****  
  
Turn it inside out so I can see   
The part of you that's drifting over me   
And when I wake you're never there   
But when I sleep you're everywhere   
You're everywhere  
Just tell me how I got this far  
Just tell me why you're here and who you are  
'Cause every time I look You're never there   
And every time I sleep You're always there  
  
*****  
  
He gathers me up into his arms on the bed and holds me.   
  
It's here I feel safe, despite the irony of the situation. He gets me.  
  
*****  
  
'Cause you're everywhere to me   
And when I close my eyes it's you I see  
You're everything I know   
That makes me believe   
I'm not alone I'm not alone   
I recognize the way you make me feel  
It's hard to think that   
You might not be real   
I sense it now, the water's getting deep   
I try to wash the pain away from me   
Away from me   
  
*****  
  
I make a resolution to myself: I'm going to try and get through this. I'm going to try and be me again, the me I want to be. It's the only way I'll ever be happy again.  
  
*****  
  
'Cause you're everywhere to me   
And when I close my eyes it's you I see   
You're everything I know   
That makes me believe   
I'm not alone  
I'm not alone   
I am not alone Whoa, oh, oooh, oh   
  
*****  
  
He whispers into my ear sweet nothings. They make me feel special.  
  
"I'll always be here for you, you know."  
  
He says this in such a way that I have to believe him.  
  
*****  
  
And when I touch your hand   
It's then I understand   
The beauty that's within   
It's now that we begin   
You always light my way   
I hope there never comes a day   
No matter where I go  
I always feel you so   
  
*****  
  
He takes my hand in his and rubs it gently.  
  
"Please, promise me that you won't try to hurt yourself again.  
  
For anyone else, I would never have been able to do it. But for him, I'll try. I'll try and get better.  
  
*****  
  
'Cause you're everywhere to me   
And when I close my eyes it's you I see   
You're everything I know   
That makes me believe   
I'm not alone   
'Cause you're everywhere to me   
And when I catch my breath   
It's you I breathe   
You're everything I know   
That makes me believe   
I'm not alone   
You're in everyone   
I see   
So tell me   
Do you see me?   
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A/N: The song is 'Everywhere' by Michelle Branch. I don't own it, I just thought it fit there. Again, thank you for all of the wonderful reviews. I'm far from finished (Just so you don't think it's over), but I still crave reviews. It's like my lifeline, people! OK, I'm done ranting. I love you all so much,  
  
Andi 


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6  
  
A/N: Thank you all SO much for the reviews. You have no idea how happy you make me.  
  
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"So how was your group session, Buffy?"  
  
I'm sitting in Willow's office.  
  
I told my mom what happened. She cried, she screamed, she was furious that I wouldn't tell her who did it. She doesn't understand. I'm barely holding on right now, telling would just make it worse.  
  
I shrug at Willow. I'm ashamed of myself, that I can't pour out my feelings to all those people. Rather, I just sit there. I hope my courage builds up soon.  
  
"Buffy, please, let me in. What really happened that night? What happened to you to make you go off the deep end only now? Please, sweetie, I just want to help you."  
  
I'm thinking. . . Maybe I should, but-  
  
"Are you sure you're ready for this?"  
  
Willow nods at me.  
  
"OK."  
  
*****  
  
2 Years Ago  
  
"Buffy! Buffy, wait up!"  
  
I turn around and see him walking up to me.  
  
He is SUCH a hottie!  
  
"Do you want to go out with me on Saturday?"  
  
"Absolutely!"  
  
I put on my biggest smile and rush off to tell my friends. Cordy'll be SO jealous!  
  
~~~  
  
Saturday  
  
"Hey, Buff, you ready?"  
  
I walk out the door with him after saying goodbye to my mother.  
  
Once we reach the Bronze, he barely lets me out of his sight.  
  
I start to get woozey. I don't know why, all I've had to drink is the root-beer he gave me.  
  
After another few dances, he takes me out of the Bronze.  
  
"There's this place behind the Bronze that I want to show you," he says.  
  
I giddily nod my head. I walk beside him with a slight waver in my step. Can too many root-beers make you dizzy?  
  
We're to his spot. It's not so special. Why did he bring me here?  
  
"Who are you, Buffy?"  
  
Who am I? What does he mean by-  
  
A hand is clamped over my mouth. I'm pushed back up against the cold brick wall. What's going on?  
  
A zipper pulls. A hand moves downwards. A scream is sounded.  
  
Wait- no- what's he doing. . .  
  
Words are shouted. A plea is whimpered. Why isn't he stopping?  
  
A shiny object is pulled out of a bag. Skin is cut. So much blood. . .  
  
No, no, no, no, no, no-  
  
"Angel!"  
  
Darkness.  
  
*****  
  
Present  
  
"The essay."  
  
I nod. The essay is the cause of this emotional breakdown. The question, the soul-searching.  
  
You can't search your soul without bringing up horrifying memories.  
  
You try so hard. . . Never good enough.  
  
Tears stream down my face. I pull up my sleeve and show her the long scar travelling down my arm.   
  
Her face is showing shock, revulsion, fear. . .  
  
"I told you that you weren't ready."  
  
..........................................................................................................................................  
  
I walk out of the school with my face still stained by the tears I have cried.  
  
How can you live with yourself, how do you keep from slitting your wrists, how do you just get through the day?  
  
I don't know. I was thinking about giving up until I met him. But I'll try. . . for him. I'll live. . . if for nothing else than the fact that he believes in me.  
  
Step by step, little by little. First I have to love myself again, Willow says. No one can save me but myself, she says.  
  
It helps that he will try, even if he can't be the knight in shining armor he wants to be.  
  
I've gotta get on my own 'Trusty Steed' and rescue myself.  
  
I'm halfway home.  
  
A car pulls up next to me.  
  
The window rolls down.  
  
"Hello, lover."  
  
..........................................................................................................................................  
  
TBC. . .   
  
A/N: Please review! They are my inspiration. Sorry for the short chapter, I've had a lot of homework lately. Love to all,  
  
Andi 


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7  
  
A/N: OMG, I am SO sorry for not posting this sooner. God, you would think your teachers would let up a little at the end of the year, but NO! They have to go and bombard you with as many tests and projects and homework as they can before school lets out. (Snort.) Self-riteous bastards.  
  
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Oh god, oh, oh. . .  
  
Screw the scared little girl act, I'm running as fast as I can.  
  
Unfortunately, they make cars a little faster than people.   
  
A hand reaches out of the car window and grabs a hold of me.  
  
"No, Buff, stay a while. All sorts of fun to be had, right?"  
  
"Get your filthy hands off of me you fu-"  
  
He's out of the car faster than I can blink. Seriously, when did he become superman?  
  
"You never learn, do you Buffy? I don't tolerate back-talking."  
  
By now he has me pinned against a tree on the side not facing the road.  
  
"You don't own me, Angel. I can say whatever the hell I want to you."  
  
My hand slowly brings out the little knife I've carried in my jacket pocket ever since I was first. . . But he's faster than me, and he snatches it out of my hand.  
  
"What's this? A present for me? Aw, Buff, you shouldn't have."  
  
His hand slowly reaches down my pants.  
  
"Get off me!"  
  
He laughs and presses harder against me. I can feel his arousal, and it sickens me.  
  
He slowly pulls my zipper down, and he puts the knife to my throat.  
  
"Make a sound, and I swear, your neck will be getting nicely acquainted with Mr. Knife here."  
  
"Already met him, tha-"  
  
He needs to stop shutting me off. Seriously, I'm making quality puns here. But still, he cuts me off by slapping my face.   
  
What he doesn't know is that somewhere in between my walking home and him grabbing me, my fear and depression had turned into rage. Not that it's doing me any good, though.  
  
"You need to learn some respect. And I think I know just how to do it."  
  
I didn't realize that his pants had been pulled down, or that mine had as well. But I did realize that he had slammed his way inside me, and it hurt like hell.  
  
I also realize that my momentary rage is again drifting away into deep fear.  
  
He could kill me.  
  
He takes my knife and draws little lines from my breast to my shoulder, still pumping away deep inside me.  
  
"Now, you little slut. . . I'm going to mark you. . . as mine. . ."  
  
He moves the blade downwards, cutting through my shirt, down, down, down. . .  
  
Right below my belly-button, he makes another slash. He draws it back up as his breath gets shorter and raspier.  
  
As he comes, he makes a crude 'A' right on my breast.  
  
He screams in release, I scream in pain. No one will be the wiser. . .  
  
And he leaves.  
  
..........................................................................................................................................  
  
There's a set of steps that must be taken to forget pain. There are two paths you may follow with different sets of steps that you can take. One the easier, but less rewarding, and one the harder, longer lasting. The latter takes too long.  
  
I need to be free of this pain NOW. I'm too cut up already to actually cut myself, so I go for losing myself in my mind.   
  
I slide down the side of the tree and rock myself back and forth. I believe that's clinically proven to be the best position for potential insane-people to be in.  
  
My blood rushes from my cuts, from down there, from inside. . . Blood, sweat and tears.  
  
That's where he finds me. Says he's been looking all over for me, going off on a ramble streak until he pulls me up and gets a good look at me. Then the only look on his face is rage.  
  
"Who. Did. This."  
  
I shake my head and burst into tears again. He jerks my chin up to look at him.  
  
"Lizzie. Tell me who did this to you."  
  
My voice comes out as barely a whisper, but I'm sure he can hear.  
  
"Angel."  
  
He doesn't know Angel, why does he have a look of shock on his face from the name?  
  
"Angel who?"  
  
"O'Donnell."  
  
O' and Mc'. . . means 'decendent of'. . . Angel decendent of Donnell. . . Bastard. Damn the whole generation.  
  
"My step-brother."  
  
Or not.  
  
William's last name isn't O'Donnell. Wait, what is his last name?  
  
"Never took their name, 'cuz I refused to have anything to do with that wanker. Can't believe my mum married his father. Da' is better. He's the one working in the library. . ."  
  
"So why. . . why is Angel back?"  
  
"Don't know, pet. All I know is that he's a dead man."  
  
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A/N: Oh, my. . . Please review, it inspires me to no end. Also, big, big, BIG thanks to everyone who has already reviewed. TBC,  
  
Andi 


	8. Interlude

Interlude  
  
A/N: The song is called '30 minutes' by T.a.T.u. It's my favorite song at the moment, you should really download it. The melody is so haunting. . . Thank you for all of the wonderful reviews I've gotten for the last chapter. Lots of love,  
  
Andi  
  
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So much loss, so much pain, how do I live with it?   
  
I walk into my house with William on my heels, ready to catch me if I fall. Always there.  
  
~Mama, Papa Forgive me   
  
Out of sight   
  
Out of mind   
  
Out of time   
  
To decide~   
  
But he needn't be. I'm ready now. I can do this.  
  
I can face my fears and let them go. I can face the pain.  
  
He says that he will kill Angel, but he is far to good at heart. He won't be able to do it. . .  
  
~Do we run?   
  
Should I hide?   
  
For the rest   
  
Of my life   
  
Can we fly?   
  
Do I stay?   
  
We could lose   
  
We could fail   
  
In the moment   
  
It takes   
  
To make plans   
  
Or mistakes~  
  
He puts a comforting hand on my shoulder and leads me up to the bathroom.  
  
Once there, he pulls off my clothes and slips me into the warm bath tub he asked my mother to prepare. He hands me a wash cloth and soap, then quietly walks out the door with a warning not to do anything to myself, for he will find out if I do. I obey his request.  
  
~ 30 minutes, a blink of an eye   
  
30 minutes,to alter our lives   
  
30 minutes,to make up my mind   
  
30 minutes,to finally decide   
  
30 minutes,to whisper your name   
  
30 minutes,to shoulder the blame   
  
30 minutes,of bliss, thirty lies   
  
30 minutes,to finally decide~  
  
I wash off and get out of the bath slowly, draining away the blood and residues that form a dirty coating on the bottom of the tub.   
  
He walks into the bathroom to find me dripping wet, standing in the middle of the room. He looks me over quickly to check for cuts and then hands me a towel to wrap around myself.  
  
After I dry and put on my robe, he leads me to my room and lies down on the bed with me. He holds me against him as if afraid to let me go.   
  
~Carousels   
  
In the sky   
  
That we shape   
  
With our eyes   
  
Under shade   
  
Silhouettes   
  
Casting shade   
  
Crying rain~  
  
After a long while, I hear his breathing even out. I slowly slip from the bed and walk over to my closet. I fish out my clothes and quietly put them on.   
  
After I'm dressed, I tip-toe down to my mother's room and lightly kiss her sleeping cheek. I then pull out her night-stands' drawer and fish out a small black pistol.  
  
~Can we fly?   
  
Do I stay?   
  
We could lose   
  
We could fail   
  
Either way   
  
Options change   
  
Chances fail   
  
Trains derail~  
  
I walk back into my room with a letter I hastily wrote while in the bathroom. We always have paper and pens stashed in the sink drawer. Mom likes to write out shopping lists while in the tub.  
  
I put the folded paper on the pillow next to William and kiss him lightly on the lips. My finger traces his cheek bone as I pull away and walk down the stairs and out of the house.  
  
~ 30 minutes, a blink of an eye   
  
30 minutes,to alter our lives   
  
30 minutes,to make up my mind   
  
30 minutes,to finally decide   
  
30 minutes,to whisper your name   
  
30 minutes,to shoulder the blame   
  
30 minutes,of bliss, thirty lies   
  
30 minutes,to finally decide~  
  
He thinks I don't know where he'll be, but I do. I'll always remember.  
  
On our one date, he had had an envelope on the dashboard. While he was in the gas station paying for the gas since it had run out in the middle of the evening, I looked at the address, quietly noting that it wasn't in a neighborhood near ours. But it was still addressed to him.  
  
I don't know why I looked at the envelope, I guess I had just had a premonition that someday I would need it.  
  
~ To decide   
  
To decide, to decide, to decide~  
  
I walk towards where I know the address to be. It's an old abandoned warehouse, but sure enough, there are lights coming from inside.  
  
I quietly step through the doors. I find him banging a woman into a table. The womans' screams are far from pleasure.   
  
I raise my gun.  
  
~ To decide   
  
To decide, to decide, to decide~  
  
*Bang*   
  
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A/N: Yes, this is my lame attempt at a cliff-hanger. Please review, it makes the chapters come much quicker. Also, I'm sorry I haven't updated sooner. I've had either food poisoning or a pulled muscel in my stomach for the past 3 days. It hurts like hell, feels like someone used my insides as a punching bag. Lots of love,  
  
Andi 


	9. Chapter 8

Chapter 8  
  
A/N: Ahhh! Big out of character Buffy to come. Just a warning. . .  
  
Andi  
  
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"You missed."  
  
"Damn straight. You think I'm just gonna let you die? You have serious mental issues. But wait- we already knew that, didn't we?"  
  
Stupid jerk thinks I'm just going to shoot him and get it over with. No friggin' way. He's standing there, banging a helpless girl into a table, and he expects me to let him off easy? He's out of what's left in his puny little mind.  
  
The girl he's holding down notices his distraction and pushes him off of her. She runs over to me after grabbing her clothes.  
  
She is pretty hot. Dark brown waves, wide eyes, a look of sheer bitchiness that no one could take away.  
  
She looks over at me while fiddling with her jean-button. She smirks and says, "Bastard messed up my hair."  
  
I cock an eyebrow at her and smile. I like this girl.  
  
"Name's Faith. You?"  
  
"Buffy."  
  
"This guy do you in, too?"  
  
"Yep."  
  
Angel starts to sneak--or what he thinks is sneaking--away. I turn towards him.  
  
"Ah, ah, ah! Not so fast."  
  
*Bang*  
  
One knee-cap down, one to go.  
  
"Ahhhh!"  
  
Blood gushes from his mauled leg. God, I'm going to enjoy this.  
  
Faith holds out her hand.  
  
"May I?"  
  
"Be my guest"  
  
*Bang*  
  
Her shot hits him in the wrist. What amazes me is that we both have such good aim. Really, I was always so clutzy when I was a kid.  
  
Another scream.  
  
"What the bloody hell are you doing?!"  
  
Uh, oh, daddy's home. . .  
  
I giggle insanely. He grabs the gun away from Faith and pulls us both away.  
  
"Making absent death threats is one thing, but you're torturing him!"  
  
Angel slowly gets up on shaky legs and brings out a small little gun. Unfortunately, William dearest is still lecturing and I can't get his attention.  
  
*Bang*  
  
The bullet flies right past our heads, and before I can blink, another bullet is shot. But this time it's not from Angel.  
  
The body slumps to the ground in a pool of blood. Williams' gaze is cold and deadly, and he takes my gun and leads me and Faith outside.  
  
..........................................................................................................................................  
  
A full moon stares down at us from the deep sky. We're lying on our backs on the beach, me cuddled next to William and Faith next to me.  
  
"What have we done?" A shaky voice asks. It takes me a moment to realize that it belongs to me.  
  
William kisses me on the head and trails his fingers through my hair.  
  
"We've ridded the world of a very bad man."  
  
It brings a soft chuckle out of me, which soon delves into tears. Faith sits up and leans over me, putting her hand on my cheek.  
  
"If you hadn't of done what you did, you, myself, and countless others would most likely be getting real friendly with a coffin."  
  
She too presses her lips to my forehead.  
  
I laugh again, but it's strained.   
  
"Where do you go to school?" I ask.  
  
"I dropped out. Ran away from home a few months ago, been holed up in that wharehouse. Didn't know someone already had dibs on it."  
  
She curls up against me and I lay a hand on her shoulder, running it up and down her smooth skin.  
  
"How'd you find me?" I ask.  
  
William looks over to me and says, "Woke up a bit after you left, I 'spose. Read your note, and figured you had gone to kill the wanker. Reasoned that he'd be held up in that wharehouse, since he always had a thing for them as a kid, and that's the only one in Sunnydale."  
  
He pulls out the gun from his pocket and holds it out to me.  
  
"You want to do the honors, Pet?"  
  
I nod my head and grasp the handle. I slowly move over to the shore and stare out at the deep water, the waves crashing into the sand like paint thrown at a canvas, covering the past, making way for new.  
  
I raise my arm and throw the gun as far out into the waves as I can.  
  
One last shimmer of the blackened hilt and it sinks beneath the sea.  
  
..........................................................................................................................................  
  
A/N: To be continued. I've actually got an idea! And, to make it even stranger, it's from some one who didn't even know she was giving me and idea. Lots of love, and plz review!  
  
Andi 


	10. Chapter 9

Chapter 9  
  
A/N: Sorry (Yet again. . .), I had to go down south on a 4 hour drive to get a stinky little award that they could've just sent to me. And of course, we just HAD to stay another 2 nights. . .  
  
Lots of love,  
  
Andi  
  
PS: This will be a fairly long chapter, so I'm sticking ANOTHER song in it. I just love songs. The seem to set the mood so perfectly, you know? Any ways, it's 'Good Enough' by Sarah McLachlin. ~Did I spell that right? Also, I kind of altered a quote from 'French Kiss'. See if you can find it. If you do, I'll send you a cookie!  
  
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It feels like the world's moving so fast, but I'm just standing still. I'm an accessory to murder, I've been raped twice, my 'rock' is sitting on the floor in the bathroom crying because of everything that's happened. . .  
  
His mom called. Dru, her name was? Hmm. . . Either way, he won't talk about it. And I have too much respect in him to pry. He'll tell me when he's ready.  
  
Faith came home with us. Took a shower in mom's bathroom. We gave her something to eat. She's downstairs sleeping on the couch right now. In the morning, we're going to try and find one of her relatives, see if she can go stay with them for a while.  
  
And I? I am sitting on my bed. I am trying to figure out how the hell all of this could've happened. I'm trying to preserve my last shred of innocence by not crying. Crying will wash it all away, into a vast abyss in space.   
  
The door opens. A tear-stained face comes through and shuts the door behind him. He sits down facing me on my bed.  
  
"Hey."  
  
"Hey."  
  
His eyes are so full of pain. I never realized that this could effect him so much. . . Something he was so detached from.  
  
He lays his head down on my shoulder and holds me so tight I feel I might break.  
  
"She was calling about her precious Angel. Said he'd been missing for about 2 weeks. I told her that I didn't know anything. . . Where he was, what he was doing. . ."   
  
He pauses to let out a sad chuckle.  
  
"Don't think she'd appreciate knowing we dumped him and the murder weapon in the Pacific ocean."  
  
I run my fingers through his silky hair and kiss the top of his head softly.  
  
"I need you. . ." I start.  
  
"You need me. . ."  
  
"That's it. I just need you."  
  
He looks in my eyes and I can still see all the pain and terror he's been through this past week. But I also see a faint glimmer of lust, and something that looks like love, through the walls he's put up.  
  
~Hey your glass is empty   
  
it's a hell of a long way home   
  
why don't you let me take you   
  
it's no good to go alone   
  
I never would have opened up   
  
but you seemed so real to me   
  
after all the bullshit I've heard   
  
it's refreshing not to see   
  
I don't have to pretend   
  
she doesn't expect it from me~  
  
I scoot away from him and sit up. Clothes slowly come off in a silent comfort zone.  
  
He takes me in his arms and lays me back onto the bed. Tears stream down his face and mine, but neither of us move to wipe them away.  
  
He places his lips over mine in a surrendering movement as our hands map out each others' bodies.   
  
Foreplay is uneeded, unwanted. It would take to long, and this is only meant as a stripping of vulnerabilities to hardship, and for giving love and comfort where it is so desperately needed.  
  
~Don't tell me I   
  
haven't been good to you   
  
don't tell me I   
  
have never been there for you   
  
don't tell me why   
  
nothing is good enough~  
  
He enters me slowly, drawing in and out, maintaining a slow pace. I cry out softly as he fills me to the brink.  
  
We both reach orgasms at the same moment, silently drawing langorous breaths and whispering words of tenderness.   
  
It's the first time I've given myself willingly, and I can't imagine it getting any better or more heart-felt than this. Granted, I know all is not candles and romance, but sometimes, it's just what is needed.  
  
~ Hey little girl would you like some candy   
  
your momma said that it's OK   
  
The door is open come on outside   
  
no I can't come out today   
  
it's not the wind that cracked your shoulder   
  
and threw you to the ground   
  
who's there that makes you so afraid   
  
you're shaken to the bone   
  
and I don't understand   
  
you deserve so much more than this~  
  
He wraps us up in the blanket and spoons against me. I feel so safe and loved, it's scary, because I know it can't last. This is just an illusion to things to come.   
  
He kisses my neck and his breath becomes even. I can't sleep. I just stare at the wall, it's posters and picture frames another illusion to hide the devastation that is my life.  
  
I remember when my life used to be simple, when all I thought about was how popular I was or how late I could get away with being out. When pom-poms and cheerleading were the goals I had set to stay with forever. That was me, soon-to-be 'Laker-Girl Buffy'. I miss those days.  
  
~ So don't tell me why   
  
he's never been good to you   
  
don't tell me why   
  
he's never been there for you   
  
don't you know that why   
  
is simply not good enough   
  
Oh, so just let me try   
  
and I will be good to you   
  
just let me try   
  
and I will be there for you   
  
I'll show you why   
  
you're so much more than good enough...~  
  
Sleep overtakes me.  
  
..........................................................................................................................................  
  
~2 Weeks Later~  
  
"Yes."  
  
"No."  
  
"Yes."  
  
"NO!"  
  
"Then take the sodding test and prove me wrong!"  
  
"No!"  
  
"So I'm right?!"  
  
"Of course not! I just don't need YOU to tell me what to do!"  
  
"Are you late?"  
  
"What the hell's that got to do with it? And it's 6'O clock in the afternoon, what would I be late for?"  
  
"Your monthly-"  
  
"Oh God, do NOT go there!"  
  
"So you are."  
  
"I've been stressed! And I've been through a-an extremely traumatic experience! Stressed women are alowed to be late for EVERYTHING, including. . . That which shall not be named!"  
  
"Just take the bloody test already!"  
  
"Fine! I'll show you, you little-"  
  
*Slam*  
  
I slam the bathroom door shut behind me.  
  
Who is he to think I'm--. I mean, lots of people get sick in the mornings. And, and, lateness is not THAT unusual. And I'm NOT crazy for wanting asparaugus on my ice cream. It's perfectly natural.  
  
Who am I kidding?  
  
..........................................................................................................................................  
  
I walk out of the bathroom holding the little stick that shall decide my fate with wide eyes.  
  
He looks down, looks up with a shocked look on his face, looks down, and looks up again.  
  
"I'm pregnant."  
  
God, I hope he catches me. This floor is pretty hard.  
  
..........................................................................................................................................  
  
A/N: Oooh! Who's is it? Plz review, I really, really need them. They're my (Well, almost. . .) life! Lots of love,  
  
Andi 


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